Posts by author
Charlotte Gullick
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The Night of Little Big Man
I was a watcher: Sometimes my father called me a hawk, taking in everything. Most especially him. I knew when he was angry by the clench of his fists and his jaw. When he relaxed at the piano, his shoulders…
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The Colonizer
It felt like one of those soundtracks where the needle scrapes across the record, and silence prevails.